


i want your heart (i hope you do too)

by chthonicheart



Series: you got my love (jumpstarted) [1]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode Tag, Families of Choice, Fluff, Found Family, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, at least for the next 15 minutes :)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 12:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21036416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chthonicheart/pseuds/chthonicheart
Summary: Buck can’t stop thinking about those words, about the way Eddie had said them, eyes open wide and earnest, hand searing a hole into his shoulder, never once breaking contact with him in any regard.





	i want your heart (i hope you do too)

**Author's Note:**

> new fandom time, new fandom time. i fell in love with these two back in their very first episode together (buckley's dedication to his splat with eddie always read as interest to me FJSOIDHG) but fell out of the show for a bit. 
> 
> needless to say, my fiance showed me the new episodes this season and I AM A WEAK BASTARD SO HERE I AM!!! i know we're probably being baited all over again but do i care! NO! (yes i do. i care a lot, please cry and pray with me. i am bereft). 
> 
> anywho, this is my first fic for them, so if they're a little ooc then i apologize. this fic takes place after 3x03 and will most definitely be rendered complete canon divergence by the time the episode is done airing in like an hour, but here we are, okay. we are in this together. 
> 
> expect a lot more buddie fic from me, these two are so fun to write and i already have a lot of ideas fjg
> 
> looked over by my fiance, any other mistakes leftover are my own idiocy

_ Buck, there’s nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you. _

Buck can’t stop thinking about those words, about the way Eddie had said them, eyes open wide and earnest, hand searing a hole into his shoulder, never once breaking contact with him in any regard. In any sense; a mere fact that still, days later, sends his heart skipping pathetically. Buck knows he’s been doing his fair share of moping lately, especially before the tsunami even struck. As it turns out, quitting the job you loved for reasons beyond your control does a whole lot in terms of putting your life into perspective. Buck’s practically swimming (ha, ouch) in the stuff by now. 

The fact that Eddie trusted him enough to speak to him after what went down was more than he had ever expected, but being confronted with the fact that Eddie wanted him to spend another day with Christopher again… it went beyond words. There was no way to even begin to explain the things it did to his chest. 

He had been so sure he had blown it. 

So sure that even though Christopher had turned out okay that Eddie would see how unfit he was to be allowed to watch after him again. 

But, that hadn’t happened.

Of course, it hadn’t happened, because for all that Eddie was his best friend; the man never failed to come up with new ways to surprise him. 

“What’s got your head in the clouds this time? Some pretty girl?” Hen teases as she plops down next to Buck on the couch at the station. 

It had taken longer than he would rather admit for him to feel comfortable coming back around to the station again. Though he had ended his career as a firefighter on his own terms, being back here, not _ back _ had stung too much for him to even consider glancing at the station from a distance for a week following losing his job. He still remembers the dread that settled in his stomach when he had seen the paramedics on the pier right before the first wave crashed in. Truthfully, he doesn’t know if the bittersweet notes will ever really fade away, but, well. 

Perspective. 

Being around his family is simply much more important now. It is worth the bittersweet nostalgia just to be around them again. 

Buck’s ashamed he couldn’t see it before, that it had taken almost losing Christopher for him to realize how stupid he was being. Everything he needed was right in front of him the entire time, but he couldn’t swallow his pride enough to see that. 

It’s not a mistake he’s willing to make twice.

Turning a dazzling smile on Hen like he was never frowning in the first place, he shrugs. “You know, possibly. A gentleman never thinks and tells.” 

Hen laughs in his face, which he supposes he deserves. “Please, Buck. You’ve never been a gentleman, let's not lie about that _ now _.” 

Buck can be a gentleman quite easily, thank you very much, but just laughs along with her. “Hey, I have hidden depths, you know. There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he says. 

“Mhm,” Hen agrees. “Like what?” 

_ That my best friend told me he trusted his son with me more than anyone else, and that I had to execute all of my willpower and then some to not blurt out how much I loved him. _

“I don’t know. Things. _ Stuff _. You’re putting me on the spot!” he says, somewhat defensively, when she laughs at him in the middle of his stammering. 

“Uh huh,” she says. “You know, it’s good to see your face back around here, Buck. Thought for a while we would never see you again.” 

Buck ducks his head, and can’t stop the look of genuine regret that swallows his face. “Yeah. I was -- being an idiot.” 

“You were,” Hen agrees, but her smile softens. “But we understood.” 

“I know. I guess I was just ashamed. Wasn’t sure if I could handle being back here after everything but… you guys, being back here, it’s shown me I never needed to stay away in the first place.” 

She leans forward, putting her hand on his forehead with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Are you feeling okay?” 

He snorts, knowing he’s probably about to be at the end of one of her jokes -- one that he’ll admit he’s missed more than he ever thought he would, given how much her and Chimney love to poke fun at him -- and doesn’t push away her hand. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“I was afraid you were running a fever since _ you’re _ the one who is being pragmatic for once,” she smirks. 

He rolls his eyes. “Ha, ha, ha,” says Buck, sarcastic as he ever is. “You ever get tired of poking fun at me?” 

“I don’t know,” she says. “You ever get tired of being so fun to poke fun at?” 

He pouts at her. 

She laughs. “Hey, none of that now. I did come here for a reason, actually. You talk to Eddie, lately? He was looking for you.” 

Buck immediately sits up at attention, which he notices Hen raise an eyebrow at. He sinks back down slowly -- play it cool, Buck -- and meets her gaze with forced nonchalance. “Oh, he was?” he asks, non-committedly, but _ extremely _ committedly. 

“Okay, now what was _ that _?” 

Buck plays dumb. He’s very good at playing dumb. He leans on one of his hands on the arm on the couch, the very picture of casual. 

“What was what?” 

“What you’re doing right now,” Hen says. “You’re not very subtle, Buck. At all.” 

Buck sighs. He’s not very subtle, is he? He deflates, melting back into the couch and throws his head back. His hand scrubs over his face before he can stop it, breathing another sigh at the thought. “I don’t know what’s _ happening _ anymore.” 

“Is something wrong with the two of you two? The last I saw you guys were attached at the hip. Did something happen?” 

_ Yeah, I lost his kid, twice, and he somehow still wants me around, and as hard as I try, I can’t stop myself from reading into it. _

He can’t say that. 

Can he? 

“We’re great, actually. Much better than I thought we’d ever be after… after the pier,” he says, on a pause. He’s not sure how much the rest of the team knows exactly what went down, but he figures keeping it as vague as he can is for the best. He’s not sure how many times he wants to rip himself open on it. 

She stares at him for a minute, eyes narrowed, roving over his face in a way that makes him feel weirdly flayed open. Her face brightens a few moments later and understanding starts to drip into her gaze. “Oh. _ Oh. _I see what this is,” she says, her grin turning shit-eating. “You’re having a bit of an awakening, aren’t you?” 

He rolls his eyes, bumping their shoulders together in amusement. “Hen, really? _ Please _ . I’ve known I was pansexual since I was a teenager,” he says. “But, uh. Since what happened, it’s getting harder to ignore how I feel about him. How I _ have _ felt about him.” 

Her expression turns serious. “Just how long have you felt this way about him, Buck?” she asks, all gentle teasing and amusement gone from her voice. That’s what Buck’s always loved about her; she is exactly what everyone needs the moment they need it without even realizing it. 

“A while. Since the beginning, really. I was more upset about how hot he was than him infringing on my turf,” he admits, somewhat sheepishly, cheeks flushed pink. 

“Damn,” Hen says. “Would telling him really be such a bad thing?”

Buck nods. “Hen, _ yeah _. I don’t even know if he’s even into dudes, and it’s not something we’ve really talked about. At all.” 

“So? Start talking about it, then. You guys are best friends, Buck. It’s not like it’s going to scare him away. You know Eddie, he’s a softie.” 

Buck tries not to stare at her like she has two heads -- it isn’t nearly as simple as she’s making it out to be; Eddie could react badly, or not react at all, or worse yet, finally decide Buck isn’t good enough anymore -- and fails. “It’s not -- I can’t ruin our friendship, Hen. Telling him I’m into men and telling him I’m into _ him _ are two different things.” 

Hen shakes her head. “You really think Eddie’s the kind of man who would drop his best friend for something like that?” 

_ Of course not _. He knows Eddie won’t care that he’s into men, and he probably wouldn’t even care if he told him he was into him. That’s just the kind of guy Eddie is, thoughtful and non-judgemental. He would take care with it, would let him down gently with his stupid big brown eyes and disarming smile, and he’d make Buck feel all the worse for it. 

He groans. “I just don’t know why I can’t ignore it anymore.” 

“Can’t ignore what anymore?” asks a very familiar voice who is _ very much _ not Hen. Buck peeks his eyes open and sees Eddie leaning over to be caught in his periphery. He doesn’t try to fight the smile that takes over his face once he sees who it is. Even though he was just lamenting to Hen, he’s always happy to see his best friend’s face. 

“Hey, man,” Buck greets. That sounds normal, right? Normal for them, at least. Buck doesn’t even know what normal for them is anymore. The conversation they had in Buck’s apartment when he dropped Christopher off for the second time won’t stop replaying in his head. He still remembers the warmth of his hand through the thin material of his t-shirt, how close he was to grasping at the back of his neck like Buck had wanted him to. 

Still wants him to. 

“Hey,” Eddie says. “Was wondering where you were. Hey, Hen,” Eddie greets, turning a dazzling smile at Hen who is still sitting beside Buck. The smile on her face is oddly indulgent, soft and wistful in a way he’s never seen before.

“Hey, Eddie. I’ll let you two chat,” she says. One of her hands reaches out to gently squeeze at Buck’s knee, reassuring and encouraging at the same time. “Remember what I said, Buck.” 

His cheeks color again, but he fights through it to nod at her in thanks. “I will.” 

“Good. Don’t be such a stranger now. We missed you,” she says, and with that she walks out of the room, leaving the two of them alone for the first time in a couple of days. 

Eddie’s eyebrows are raised as he takes a seat next to him on the couch. He’s close enough that their thighs brush and Buck has to choke back a surprised noise when Eddie doesn’t bother to move his leg after he settles in. 

“What was that all about? Is everything okay?” Eddie asks once Buck doesn’t immediately say something.

For the second time in as many minutes, Buck feels his throat close up on him. Eddie’s eyes are open and earnest, glancing at him in concern. Buck doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve the way Eddie cares about him -- in fact, he’s probably done more on the contrary than anything -- but he is a selfish man when it really comes down to it. He couldn’t ask him to stop even if he had truly wanted to. 

“Yeah, yeah everything’s fine. Hen was just giving me a bit of, ah, friendly advice.” 

Eddie’s curiosity deepens, his thigh presses into Buck’s own with more intent than it had just moments before. His heart trips up in his chest, eyes skittering over to see his best friend watching him with equal intensity. 

“Yeah? ‘Bout what?” Eddie asks. 

Buck could say nothing and Eddie wouldn’t push anymore, he’d let him change the subject and would confine himself to stolen, worried glances when he thought Buck wasn’t paying attention. Buck knows this, has always felt safe with him, and maybe that’s why it comes out so easily, maybe that’s why he doesn’t bother trying to hide this time. Or any time, really. Buck’s never been able to hide much, when it came to Eddie. 

“The tsunami, mainly. And how to deal with everything that happened afterward, I guess,” Buck says, with a shrug of his shoulders that feels forced even to himself. 

Eddie’s struck silent for a few moments. He wonders if he’s stuck in the cycle of events just like Buck is, _ has _ been. He wouldn’t be surprised, he knows the team struggled with what happened, just like Buck did, knows that they weren’t nearly prepared enough for everything that they saw. The last thing any of them expected was a natural disaster to tear through the streets of LA. 

(Needless to say, he obsessively checks the weather forecasts, now. One can never be too cautious.)

“Oh,” he says, finally. Despite seeing each other nearly every day, they haven’t had a conversation about what happened, except for the halting one Buck forced himself through at the triage center. The thought alone is enough to spring forward the collection of doubts that builds whenever he has a spare moment. The only thing that compared to how fucking awful he had felt in that moment was the feeling of knowing he had lost Christopher in the first place. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“I don’t know,” Buck says. He doesn’t know what good it would do to talk about; Buck sure didn’t need to talk about it (he _ didn’t _; he was fine) and he’s not sure if it would be any more therapeutic for Eddie either. “What about it? It still kind of feels like a dream, man.” 

Eddie laughs, nodding his head in agreement. His thigh only seems to get warmer against Buck’s own the longer he keeps it there. He has no idea what it means; it probably means nothing and Buck and his pathetic heart are reading into it once again. Now that he’s fully acknowledged and accepted his feelings for Eddie, it’s like they were suddenly everywhere. 

They were written in the lines around Eddie’s eyes when he smiled at him, in the way his body subconsciously leaned into Buck’s space always, in the way he slapped his shoulder when dropping Christopher off in the mornings. He could see it _ everywhere _. Somewhere someone was having way too much fun with torturing him, he was sure of it. 

It’s unfair, really. Buck’s never fallen in love with a best friend before. It is, quite possibly, the most right, most terrifying thing he’s ever known. 

“I feel that. I’m still not convinced it was even real,” Eddie says. Buck can feel his eyes on the side of his face, and he wonders what his best friend is looking for. “I know we haven’t really talked much about it, and I’m sure I’m not who you want to talk to about this, but I’m here, if you need it.” 

Buck shrugs. Talking about his feelings has never really come easy to him; they’ve always choked him up instead. He’s not sure how to talk about them without them all pouring out of him, sometimes wonders if he was ever really built for anything different. 

“Thanks, man.” He doesn’t try to hide his smile. He’s not sure why that does it, but it’s as if the dam finally floods over. “We were lucky, all things considered. I saw some of the bodies, of the people who didn’t make it. Dozens of ‘em. Just floated on by while we were stranded on the truck.”

The furrow between Eddie’s eyebrows returns, the other man placing a hand on his knee. It’s a little farther up than Hen’s was just minutes earlier. 

_ Don’t read into it. He’s just trying to comfort you. _

Eddie really was so much greater than anyone gave him credit for. And he got a _ lot _ of credit for being as great as he was. 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Eddie says, tone fervent. “That’s difficult to deal with, Buck. I’m proud of you for getting through. For getting _ Christopher _ through. I know I’ve thanked you enough by now that it’s probably annoying, but thank you, really.” 

Buck doesn’t even need a mirror to know how brightly his ears are burning. He feels unworthy of Eddie’s praise, but he’s selfish enough to enjoy it anyway. “It’s nothin’, man. You know I’d do anything for that kid.” That I’d do anything for you. It’s implied, sure, but Buck’s too much of a coward to let himself blurt it out like he wants to. 

There are some things you don’t say to your best friend on a couch. That is definitely one of those things. 

Eddie just smiles at him. “Yeah,” he says, tone packed but he can’t tell with _ what _. 

Buck isn’t an idiot, or at least, he’s not that much of an idiot, he knows something changed between them that night. He can still feel the weight of Eddie’s gaze on him as he held Christopher close to him, has memorized the way his heart stopped with enough force at the image of Eddie standing there like that he was almost nervous he’d end up in the hospital again. 

He clears his throat.

There’s no use thinking of that now. 

“So, why were you looking for me?” he asks. 

“Oh,” Eddie says. It’s a trick of the lighting, for sure -- fluorescent lights are just like that, right? -- but Buck’s eyes can’t help but trace the color that bleeds on to his cheeks. “Christopher wanted me to invite you to dinner tonight. We wanted to invite you to dinner tonight if you were free.” 

Buck can’t remember the last time he had plans outside of his sister or the man standing in front of him, so he grins. 

“Hell yeah, man. Count me in.” 

Eddie’s answering grin is blinding, and his hand on Buck’s knee squeezes once again before he’s up and off the couch. 

“Great. I’ll see you, then.” 

Buck lasts until Eddie disappears out of the room before collapsing back into the couch with a groan. 

Why does he insist on getting himself into these things? How is he supposed to last through a whole night when he can barely handle a single conversation with him these days without blurting out how he feels about the mess inside his chest? 

“Fuck.”

  
  
  


\-----

  
  
  


It’s not a date.

It’s not a date. 

It is _ not _a date. 

No matter how many times he tries reminding himself of that, he can’t stop his pulse from racing, can’t stop the way he obsessively checks his hair in the mirror to make sure it looks alright before remembering his hair is so short it doesn’t even matter. They've hung out dozens of times like this, hell, this is hardly the first time Eddie's even made him dinner. And, still. Buck finds he hasn’t felt this nervous since the first time he took Abby out on an actual date. 

“Get it together, Buck,” he grumbles at himself. “You do this all the time. It’s not any different.” 

Pep talk with himself over (and more of a motivator than he’d ever like to admit), Buck runs his hands down the collared shirt he’s wearing. It’s a pale button-down, printed with a pineapple a’la _ Spongebob _ print. He’d bought it on a whim, a few months ago, and he had to admit that it caught him in all the right places. Plus, imagining the grin and laugh he’d get for wearing it when Christopher saw it was more than enough for him to decide that it was perfect. Eddie would probably find it amusing too since he was a fan of pretty much anything that made his son happy. 

Fuck, he loved them. 

He loved them so much he could feel himself cracking open inside. 

Buck sighs, giving himself one last look in the mirror before shutting off the lights and leaving the bathroom. Eddie had texted him earlier this morning telling him he was cool to come around anytime after five, which had sent his heart doing leaps in his chest. He didn’t want to appear _ too _ eager, however, so he waits until at least five minutes afterward to send Eddie his usual ‘I’m-on-my-way’ text. 

**To: ** _ Eddie _ 5:01 P.M.  
On my way

He doesn’t get a reply immediately but knows if the plan had changed, Eddie would have told him about it, so he grabs his wallet, his keys, and heads out before he really starts embarrassing himself.

  
  


\-----

  
  
  


He debates with himself for nearly ten minutes, almost turns around twice, but eventually decides _ what the hell _ and pulls up into the parking lot of the nearest Walgreens. He doesn’t know what’s driving him more, guilt or a need to make it up to Christopher, but he knows it’s the right decision as soon as he steps into the specialty items aisle. 

It only takes him a while to find what he’s looking for. There, among the stuffed horses, and panthers, is a medium-sized, brown and white teddy bear. It isn’t nearly as big or as fun as the bear from the pier, but he thinks it might just do. It’s dumb, he knows, to care this much over a stupid stuffed animal when everything else had turned out okay, but he can’t get Chris’ excitement over having won it out of his head. 

He pays for the bear, thanks the cashier, and heads back to his car with a sigh.

There’s absolutely no way he’s surviving this night unscathed. He should just get it over with and admit that to himself early on. It’ll be easier. 

Probably.

  
  


\-----

  
  
  


Within fifteen minutes, Buck’s pulling into Eddie’s driveway. 

His phone buzzes where he’d tossed it onto the passenger seat. 

**From: Eddie ** 5:17 P.M.  
See you then. Doors open! 

It’s what Eddie says every time. There’s no reason it sends him weak in the knees, none at all. Buck breathes another sigh, grabs the teddy bear from the front seat, and kills the engine. 

Buck opens the front door, immediately hearing the click-clack of Christopher’s crutches excitedly hitting the ground. The smile that makes its way onto his face is far beyond his control, but he can’t even be that upset about it when Chris comes into view. The smile on his face is contagious; he finds himself squatting down to his level before he really thinks about it. 

“Bucky!” Christopher greets. “You’re here.” 

Buck grins at him. “That I am, buddy! Thanks for inviting me over for dinner.” He says, reaching out a hand to ruffle his hair slightly. “Oh, I got you something.” 

His eyes grow comically wide behind his glasses. Buck remembers putting them around his neck, remembers how they only strengthened his resolve to find him alive. It causes a lump to crawl up his throat, but Buck forces it back down, stubbornly. 

“You got me a present?” asks Chris, absolutely delighted. 

“That I did, Chris,” Buck confirms and reaches for the hastily wrapped package he’d fixed up in the Walgreens parking lot. Wrapping something soft was far harder than the movies and Maddie made it seem, but it would be worth it, to see the look on Chris’ face. 

Eddie pops into view right as he hands it over to him, one of Chris’ hands clutching at the package excitedly, the kid practically vibrating out of his skin. Buck smiles at him, albeit softer than he had at Christopher, feeling the tips of his ears heat up once under his best friend’s attention yet again. 

“Hey, Buck,” Eddie greets, an answering smile teasing the edges of his lips in a way that has Buck wishing he had something to hold onto. 

Christopher’s attention instantly diverts to his father.

“Daddy!” Chris shouts. “Buck got me a present! Can I open it?” 

Eddie’s mouth falls open in surprise, but the dopey smile that follows sends Buck’s breathing knocking around all funny in his chest. 

“You didn’t have to get him anything, Buck,” Eddie says, sounding touched. 

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Buck starts. “Just replacing something that was lost.” 

His best friend raises an eyebrow at him curiously but dutifully follows Christopher as his son makes his way to the couch, Eddie helping him up on it with a grin. “Well, go on then, buddy. Open it.” 

Buck joins them, on Chris’ other side, not knowing why he’s as nervous as he is. He hopes, suddenly, for the first time thinking about it, that he’s not being a total dick by reminding Christopher of the pier, of what happened. 

Shit. 

This was a bad idea. This was a _ really _ bad idea. 

Before he can take it back, though, Christopher is nodding along at his father’s words, tearing open the package. Buck pretends he’s not avidly watching the little man’s face, watching like a hawk for the first signs of discomfort, but none of it ever comes. A smile, bigger than the last, a _ beam _, takes over his face and he holds the teddy bear close to his chest. 

“You remembered!” 

Buck’s heart has no right seizing in his chest the way it does. “Of course I remembered, buddy. I know it’s not as cool or as big as the one you won, but I think he has his own charm, don’t you?” 

Christopher shakes his head. “Thank you, Buck,” he says. “I like this one better.” 

Buck smiles at him, eyes leaving Christopher to travel over to Eddie. Eddie’s watching them with that indecipherable expression again, though the first dip of his crow’s feet give away how pleased he is. Eddie stares at him long enough Buck’s almost worried he really did actually screw up, but all the other man does is lean down to throw away the wrapping paper. Buck watches him disappear into the kitchen and turns on the T.V. for Christopher to watch until dinner’s ready. 

“I’ll be right back, okay? I’m gonna go see if your dad needs any help in the kitchen.” 

“Okay, Buck,” says Chris, happily watching T.V., teddy bear resting in his lap like it’s been there all along. 

Buck finds his best friend in the kitchen, the closer he gets the more enticing the smell of rising bread gets. His stomach growls unhelpfully, louder than necessary, causing Eddie’s attention to turn on him with a grin. Buck refuses to blush through sheer willpower alone and heads over to where Eddie is, knocking their shoulders together in excuse to be close to him again. 

“You’re not burning that, are you?” He teases. 

“Please, Buck. I’m not Chimney,” Eddie laughs, shaking his head. “Should be about another ten minutes and we’re good.” 

Buck laughs. “Hey, man. You can never be too careful, you never know with firefighters,” he says, and for once, it doesn’t hurt in the way he’s expecting it to. 

Eddie slaps his shoulder instead of answering, turning to open the fridge to grab a couple of beers. He passes one over to Buck without even having to ask, letting the door close once he’s done. 

“Thanks, man,” he says, opening the bottle with a grunt and superb grip strength. 

Eddie waves him off. “It was nice of you, to get Christopher a gift like that. Thanks.” 

“It was nothing. He won himself a big brown bear on the pier before -- well, you know. I thought having a new one would help.” 

Eddie’s expression morphs into the same one he had when he told Buck just how much he trusted him with his son. A look he wears quite often, whenever it’s the three of them together, now that Buck thinks about it. He refuses to read into it (he’s doing so much of that lately he might as well actually read into for all his trouble), letting himself get distracted by taking a pull of his beer instead. 

Why was his best friend so attractive? 

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you how lucky Christopher is,” Eddie starts, conversationally. 

Buck makes a confused noise. “What do you mean?” 

“I never thought I could meet anyone who would care for that kid as much as I do. But you _ do _,” says Eddie, laughing a bit. 

Buck shakes his head. He’s always had a soft spot for kids (and even smaller animals), and Christopher is as adorable and eager to learn as they come. 

“If anything, dude, I’m the lucky one. He makes me a better person,” Buck says. “You both do, actually. I think you’d be a little appalled by how awful I was before I met you.” 

Eddie shakes his head. “No, Buck. You’re a lot of things, but awful was never one of them. I knew that even while you were committed to having your little spar with me,” Eddie teases. 

Buck flushes again. “I appreciate the sentiment, Eddie, but it’s true,” Buck says. “I’m not proud of who I was before.” 

If anything, the fondness in Eddie’s eyes only deepens. 

“That’s okay. We’ve all done things we’re not proud of,” Eddie points out, matter-of-fact. “I don’t know if you’re trying to get me to lecture you, but it’s not happening, man. You’re not going to find that with me.” 

Buck laughs, shaking his head, not for the first time thinking about just how much he truly does not deserve this. 

“Alright,” he says. “Point taken. Do you need any help with dinner? That’s what I was trying to ask before you distracted me.”

Eddie pretends to think about it for a moment. “I don’t know, Buck. Think you can handle putting together a salad for us?” 

Buck rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I think I have that handled, asshole.” He says as he starts to rummage through the Diaz’s fridge for ingredients. He grabs them all, placing them in his arms until he can’t possibly carry anymore. He can hear Eddie laughing at him as he hobbles to the free space on the other side of the oven, dumping everything there unceremoniously. He wipes imaginary sweat off his brow and starts the tedious process of getting all the vegetables washed. 

“I think I might need to tape this for the rest of the team. They won’t believe how helpful you’re being right now,” Eddie continues to rib, but the undercurrent of happiness is hard to ignore, so Buck just lets it flow right off of him. 

“Your faith in me is very heartwarming, Eddie. Thank you,” he quips back as he starts to dice the vegetables. 

Nights like this, making dinner with someone else, basking in the overall domesticity was something he thought he had left behind when Abby had left him. It’s different, though, and not just because Eddie isn’t Abby or vice versa, in a way he can’t really put his finger on. He loved her, Buck knows that he did, more sure of that than almost anything else, but his love for Eddie is something else altogether. 

He finishes putting together the salads, two bigger ones for him and Eddie and a smaller one with all of the vegetables Christopher doesn’t like already left out for him. Buck’s never made a salad for a kid before, but Eddie doesn’t seem to see a problem with it, just smiles at Buck like he’s been doing an awful lot lately. 

“This is perfect. Thanks, Buck,” Eddie says. “Who knew you could be the perfect house-husband.” 

Buck grips the edge of the counter for the strength to deal with Eddie calling him _ house-husband _ and _ perfect _in the same sentence. 

“Don’t mention it, man,” Buck insists, waving off the praise. “I should be thanking you for letting me come over.” 

Eddie bumps their shoulders together. “You’re always welcome here, man. You should know that by now,” he says. 

Buck’s caught off-guard by the tone of his voice, like he really _ is _ stupid for not realizing just how much Eddie and Christopher want him around, but is saved from having to think of a response when the oven’s timer beeps helpfully at them. He turns away, grabbing his beer once again and takes a swig long enough that Eddie’s already set the pizza on the counter by the time he’s finished. 

It looks _ amazing _. 

The pizza is obviously homemade, a little off-center and more of an ellipse rather than a circle, but what it lacks in presentation, it makes up for in smell and just general _ awesomeness _. 

Eddie made that. 

Christopher probably helped him. 

It’s a thought that soothes and stings at the same time. He only wishes he could’ve been there with them. 

“Dude, this smells delicious. Did you guys make this from scratch?” He asks, even though he doesn’t need to. 

“Yeah, Christopher insisted. According to him, it isn’t homemade unless you make all of it yourself,” explains Eddie, rolling his eyes fondly. 

“I gotta say, Eddie. I agree with the little guy on this one,” Buck says, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. 

“Traitors, both of you,” Eddie grumbles, half-heartedly and utterly besotted. Buck can see right through his act, which only makes it all the more endearing. The ease that’s always flowed between them is only deepening; there are things he’s never told another soul, not even Maddie, that he has to force to stop bubbling to the surface. 

Buck grabs the salads, bringing them over to the dinner table while Eddie grabs the pizza. The table is already stocked with plates, silverware, and napkins, which Buck is grateful for. He’s trying his best to control himself, but there’s no telling how long he’ll last without tearing into the food in front of him. Once the food is on the table, he stands awkwardly in the Diaz’ dining room. 

“You can sit down, Buck,” Eddie comments, sounding amused. 

Buck flushes, a fine dust of pink no doubt covering his cheeks. He’s being far too obvious, and he knows it, but try as he might, he just really cannot help himself. He was so close to losing _ this _; whatever it is Eddie and him have built up over the last several months, and he didn’t even realize it until it was almost too late. 

Hindsight, for once, is being rather kind to him lately. 

“Oh,” he says, finally, late and awkward. “Right,” he adds, taking the chair out directly in front of him so he can collapse into it. 

“Chris, dinner’s ready,” calls Eddie. It isn’t long before Buck hears the T.V. click off, the tip-tap rhythm of Christopher’s crutches as he joins them in the dining room. 

“Wow!” Christopher gasps. “That looks _ way _better than I thought it would. We did a good job.” 

Yeah, that’s it; it’s official, Buck’s chest is collapsing in on itself. 

“I think it looks _ amazing, _buddy,” Buck tells him. 

“Thanks, Buck.” 

If Buck had been paying attention, he would have noticed Eddie pulling out the chair for Christopher, if only to hide his smile. He doesn’t notice, though, and the moment passes. Eddie sits next to the both of them, close enough that he can easily help Christopher with his food if he needs to. 

“Alright, boys. What do you say, should we eat this pizza already or what?” 

“Yeah!” Christopher cheers. 

Buck’s stomach, ever the superstar, picks that moment to growl in agreement, sending Christopher into a fit of giggles that almost has him falling out of his chair. He can’t even bring himself to feel embarrassed, not when it has him laughing, too. 

“I think Buck’s there with you, Chris. Let’s dig in.” 

And with that, Eddie plucks the pizza cutter from the utensils in a small pile in the middle of the table and begins to dish everything out. 

  
  
  


\------

  
  


“Wow, this is _ delicious _,” Buck says, after his fourth or fifth bite, since he was honestly speechless until now. 

Buck catches the way Eddie’s cheeks color like he’s not expecting the compliment. “Christopher and I had a lot of fun making it, didn’t we buddy?” 

“The _ most _fun,” Christopher nods, taking another bite of pizza, chewing happily. There’s sauce on his face, but the little guy doesn’t seem to mind too much if the way he keeps on eating like it’s nothing is any indicator. 

Buck smiles. “This might just be the best pizza I’ve ever had.” 

“The bestest ever?” asks Christopher. 

“Wow, that’s some pretty high praise, Buck,” Eddie adds. 

“What can I say? I know perfection when I taste it.” 

Eddie shakes his head. “You sure are laying the charm on thick tonight.” 

Buck really _ is _ and he is hopeless and unable to stop.

“It’s not my fault you both make excellent pizza. I’m just calling it like I see it, Eddie.” 

Eddie shakes his head on a laugh, but is cut off by Christopher gasping and giggling with increasing frequency. They turn, almost comically in time, to look at the young boy. There’s pizza sauce, somehow, gathered on the tip of his nose. Buck’s fingers twitch from the sudden and _ intense _ urge to take a picture at how much of an adorable picture it makes. 

“I think there’s something on my nose,” Christopher says. “It feels funny.” 

Buck laughs, and before he’s even really thinking it through, he ‘accidentally’ swipes his finger through some of his own sauce, smearing it across his nose when Christopher’s attention is off of him. He hears Eddie chuckling gently beside him, which only encourages him, an overly dramatic gasp falling from his mouth. 

“My nose feels funny, too,” he says. “Is there anything on my nose, Chris?” 

Christopher devolves into even more giggles. “You got pizza sauce on your face, Bucky!”

“I do?” Buck asks, doing a pretty damn good job of acting surprised, if you ask him. “I wonder how that happened.” 

Eddie is being suspiciously quiet beside them and has been for more than a couple minutes now. Buck turns to him in concern and finds his best friend with his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down on it in what seems to be contemplation. He wonders, briefly, if he crossed some weird irresponsible line with Christopher by painting his nose with pizza sauce -- he’s probably encouraging a little bit too much rebellion -- and quickly throws that line of thinking out the window. 

Eddie doesn’t look upset; contemplative and shocked, yes, but from what Buck can tell there isn’t any of that to sour his expression. 

“Eddie?” Buck asks, meeting the other man’s eyes. “You okay, man?” 

That seems to kickstart Eddie back into the land of the living, at least.

“I love you.” Eddie blurts.

Christopher nods excitedly. “I love Bucky, too.” 

Buck, however, cannot actually feel any part of his body anymore. The rush of white noise that invades his ears. He can’t think about anything else other than running through what Eddie just told him, his fingers have gone number around his fork and he can only imagine how stupid the face is that he’s making. 

_ Eddie loves him. Eddie loves him. Eddie loves him. _

He knew, on some level, that Eddie did. They’ve never been ones to really talk about it, but you aren’t as close as they are to each other without loving each other on some level. Buck _ knows _ this but going by the way Eddie’s gone completely red, looking between Buck, Christopher, and the exit, makes him think Eddie is really trying to tell him something important. 

Buck swallows against the force of surprise trying to close his throat on him, breathing a deep sigh as he tries to get control of himself again. Eddie hasn’t bolted yet, but when he chances another look at his best friend the man looks ready to bounce, every single muscle corded with anxiety and fighting valiantly against his fight-or-flight response. 

“Buck?” Christopher asks, tentatively. 

It’s enough to kickstart him back into motion. He looks over at Christopher, the little man watching both him and Eddie with a curious, if not a little nervous expression. He’s pretty sure Eddie never meant to blurt that out in front of Christopher, going by the abject horror that’s quickly taking over his face. 

“Jesus, Eddie,” the man grumbles to himself. “What did you _ do _?” 

Buck doesn’t think about the fact that he still has pizza sauce on his nose or the fact that his hands are shaking as he drops the silverware in his hand to wipe his palms nervously against his pants. Eddie refuses to look at him, now, gaze firmly planted somewhere over the top of Christopher’s head. 

“Eddie,” Buck starts. 

“Let’s just, not, yeah?” Eddie tries. 

Buck shakes his head. He very much is _ not _ going to ‘just not’. He’s not about to sit on the wayside while Eddie tells him everything he’s ever wanted to hear. 

“Did you mean it?” Buck asks. 

Eddie blinks at him for a few moments. He clears his throat. 

“Did I mean it?” He repeats. 

“Yeah,” Buck says. That’s when the metaphorical floodgates open. “I know I’m pretty charming, you know, as a person, and _ pretty _ irresistible, as well, so I have to make sure.” 

Eddie’s startled into laughter. “You’re an idiot,” he says, and it sounds like a confession. _ Another _ confession. A confession on top of the original confession, which doesn’t seem fair. Buck hasn’t gotten to confess at all. His best friend takes another breath to steady himself. “Of course I meant it, Buck. I mean everything I tell you.” 

He really can’t be helped, can’t be blamed, then, for how he leans over and grabs Eddie’s face in his hands. Eddie’s eyes are open wide in surprise, his brown eyes glittering softly in the sunlight streaming through the dining room window. Buck lets his thumb stroke his cheek, feeling the soft skin hidden beneath the five o’clock shadow he’s grown so fond of. Buck smiles at him. 

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Buck makes sure to tell him, and then does exactly that. 

Eddie’s lips are soft beneath his own, tasting vaguely of the chapstick he knows the man keeps in his pocket. Buck’s thought a lot about how it would feel to kiss Eddie, has thought about the way they would taste, how well they’d fit together, but absolutely nothing could prepare him for the way Eddie melts into his touch, lips going pliant beneath his own as the man recovers from his surprise to push forward. 

He can distantly hear Christopher cheering in front of him, but he’ll be damned, if, for once, Buck can’t bring himself to pay attention. 

He’s kissing Eddie, actually kissing Eddie, and everything else just falls away. The room their in the, rapidly cooling pizza in front of them. It all falls into a black hole of nothingness with Eddie’s lips pressed against his. 

Buck pulls away, after a few moments, not trusting himself not to scar Christopher for life by frenching his dad right in front of him, and beams dopily at Eddie once he’s far away enough to. 

“Wow,” he says, dazedly. “_ Wow _.” 

Eddie looks like he’s thinking the same thing, jaw wide open enough Buck’s almost surprised it’s not hitting the dinner table. “I, _ what _? Did you just…” 

“Yep,” Buck says, leaning forward to rest his head in his hands so he can gaze more comfortably at him. “I very much did just kiss you, didn’t I, Christopher?” 

“Yep!” Christopher echoes, sounding pleased. 

Buck laughs but cuts himself off when he realizes he may have definitely just crossed over a boundary. “Is that okay?” 

Eddie surges into action, then, grabbing gently at one of Buck’s hands to lace their fingers together. The broad smile that plays at his lips beams bright enough it could power L.A. alone for the next several months _ at least _, Buck thinks and is still thinking about it when it’s Eddie this time who closes the distance between them to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

They pull away, and Buck has no doubts in his mind he has the same exact expression on his face as Eddie. 

He doesn’t even care. 

“I love you, too, you know. Both of you.” Buck says, voice halting and only a step above stammering. This is important to say, and the most important things are always the hardest, have always been for Buck. “I’ve been trying so hard to ignore my feelings for you. I guess Hen was right, I really was being an idiot.” 

Eddie laughs, understanding dawning over his features. “Ah. So that’s what you two were talking about this morning, was it?” 

Buck flushes. “Possibly,” he mutters. 

Eddie’s hand in his crawls up to brush reverent fingers across the top of Buck’s cheekbones. He doesn’t bother trying to stop himself from leaning into the touch. “Nice to know we could have avoided all this embarrassment if we had just gotten our shi -- crap together sooner.” 

Buck laughs, pressing a kiss to the tip of Eddie’s fingers. “Yeah, but if we had done that then it wouldn’t have been us, would it?” he teases. 

Eddie smiles. “Yeah,” he breathes. 

The moment is fractured by Christopher’s giggles again, his hands coming up to cover his face in his amusement. Eddie and Buck share a look, a smile that feels like it’s just for their little man. 

“Daddy has pizza sauce on his face now, too,” he points out, through his giggles. 

They all burst into laughter at the same time, and Buck wastes no more time leaning over to playfully boop both of their noses. “Now we all match,” he says, voice thick with emotion. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “We kind of always did.” 

**Author's Note:**

> well......... i am soft and sad and tender, if you couldn't tell.
> 
> thank you for reading! let me know what you thought (if you thought anything about this)  
feel free to come yell at me/prompt me more ridiculousness on my [tumblr](https://buckleyeddie.tumblr.com/), i am drowning in these two and it is agony!


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